Executing Our Children

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Executing Our Children

Thought’s existence is a subtle one,

And this, a veritable truth,

But the child that my mind conceived,

My hand should execute

In my mind words form,

Through thunder, rain and storm,

Clean your house if you’re grown,

Don’t advise others on their own,

For humans become in their boast,

The thing they hate the most;

Liberator becomes tyrant,

Abused becomes abuser,

Father becomes pedophile,

And mother becomes a user,

So be diligent in this,

By removing the dirt and mist,

For while treating others like dirt, 

We can never know love on earth,

What some people call love,

Is really nothing short,

Of prejudice and bias,

Of a vey common sort,

Yes! Thought’s existence is a subtle one,

And this a subtle truth,

For the child my mind did conceive,

My hand did execute.

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Poetry is not the expression of personality but an escape from personality.

T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.

Starhawk’s Poems (35)

Title Comments
Title Comments
~ Veteran's Cry ~ 0
In The Beginning... 0
Mother in Every Sense! 0
Is not Free! Freedom! 1
Love 0
Peace Profound 0
I Am, Soul! 0
Mother Sends A Message 0
Love To Envy 0
Pitter Patter Of Little Feet 0
Love Is My Shepherd, I Shall Not Want 2
Executing Our Children 0
Too Right With God's Multiple Wrongs 0
400 + 0
Satisfy Me 2
Fire in the Darkness 0
All I Know 0
Never Really Alone 1
Veterans of Compassion 2
Winter of My Discontent 0
She's My Sun 0
Emboldened, Impassioned, Alive 0
True Los ...s 0
I Promise 2
Past Haunted 1
Alone NOT Lonely 0
love at First Shot 0
Soulmate 0
A Love to Envy 0
RuSh ApPlE HoUr 0
Common Love 0
The Human Animal 1
Clothed in a Smile 0
Reef of Tears 0
Passion's Possessions 2